I Just Need You Now
by timeishealing
Summary: "Said I wouldn't call but I'm a little drunk and I need you now." Tragedy strikes Rachel Berry and Noah Puckerman is surprisingly the one to pick up the pieces. P/R, Br/S, K/Bl, T/A, Q/S
1. I Wish I Could Save You

This story holds dark themes so you've been warned.

Disclaimer: yep, still don't own Glee. Evidence? Note the lack of Puckleberry smut on my TV screen.

* * *

"Hey, Puckerman, coming to my party tonight?" Puck looked up from his duffel bag, raising an eyebrow at Azimio. Normally, the boy wouldn't even look at him without saying some smartass comment about Glee club or Puck's relationship with Lauren. Then Puck would get into his face and say something equally badass and scary and Azimio would back off, grumbling about how Puck's all bark and no bite.

Right. That's why Puck was two minutes away from bashing the asshole's head in with his guitar.

Puck stood up straight, throwing the strap of the bag onto his broad shoulder. "There gonna be beer? I need some alcohol," Puck replied, shutting his gym locker and grinning at the dark-skinned boy. Azimio nodded wordlessly and shut his own locker, pulling on his bag then started towards the locker room door, opening it.

"Yeah, see ya there." Puck nodded and walked out after him, advancing in the opposite direction. Suddenly, Sam had caught up with him, his own bag in his hands. The usually talkative blond just nodded at Puck and continued to walk beside him, singing a rap song under his breath.

"What are you singing, Evans?" Sam looked up in surprise then grinned, evidently glad that Puck had asked.

"No Hands by W-" The tall, lean boy was suddenly cut off by a heart-breaking scream. Both looked at each other, confused when yet another screamed echoed through the empty halls. Puck's chest clenched because suddenly, he knew the only person who hit a high note like that. Panic filled his lungs and he couldn't breathe. Sam looked towards him, shock covering his usually bright sky-colored eyes."Dude, what the hell was that?"

Puck started to run towards where he heard the scream, shaking his head and dropping his duffel bag on the cool tile floors. "That's just it. Not what, _who_, Evans," He stated, clenching his jaw. Sam quickly matched his pace, dropping his bag as well. Another scream pierced the air. All that was going through Puck's head was what could happen if he didn't get to her in time. He turned a corner and a sob almost crawled out of his throat at the sight before him.

Three unidentifiable boys were crowding a form on the floor, making Puck clench his fists. One was getting up off the floor, zipping up his jeans. Another was kicking the bloody body on the floor and the last was looking around suspiciously. The third caught sight of Puck and Sam and signaled to the other two that they had company. The first one smirked and grabbed his two friends by their sleeves sprinting down another hallway. Sam took off down the hallway and down the other, chasing the three boys who were loudly cackling throughout the empty building.

Puck, however, lingered behind, walking slowly to the body. With all his air, he murmured the prayer they used in Temple under his breath, praying that she was alive, that she wasn't just _raped_. He knew the latter was in vain because he could see her skirt lying behind her, completely soaked in her blood. He held his breath until he was inches away from the sobbing girl who had already sat up and had her face in her hands. "R... R-Rachel?" The sobbing had slowly faded and she looked up, her beautiful chocolate brown eyes filled with fear and it _broke_ him. It made him wish he had gotten here sooner, that he had actually saved her.

"No, no, no! Get away,_ get away from me_!" She shrieked and swatted at him briefly before scooting away, sobbing uncontrollably, hands covering her head. "Don't.. please, I'm-I'm begging you," She pleaded, tears dropping onto the bloody tiles around her.

"Rachel, please. It-It's me, _Noah_," He desperately murmured, dropping to his knees. His hand tentatively touched her bare shoulder where they had ripped at her shirt and she didn't shrink away. A sigh of relief came from him and he felt like maybe everything was going to be okay as her heartbeat and breathing had steadied. His heart then broke when her body visibly flinched as a result to his hand moving to her arm to see the scratches inflicted. They had done it. They had done what Quinn and himself and Finn and Santana and Jesse had failed to do.

They had broken her. They had broken Rachel Berry, the star. They had taken her innocence, left her with an experience she'd never forget or possibly move on from. She would never get that romantic first time she had always desired and she would most likely never fully trust another human being again.

"N-N-Noah?" He broke away from his thoughts and looked at the petite girl sitting in front of him. "Noah?" He touched her in response and although she whimpered and shrugged it off, he was relieved to know that she at least somewhat trusted him. "I.. I wanna go home. I wanna go to bed." Her voice was soft and cracking and she sniffled at the end, hands moving from her head to wipe away tears.

"You can't, Rachel. You need to go to the hospital. I-I think Mr. Schuester is still here. Wait here, okay? Just stay right here." He went to stand up and she started to sob and shaking her head, grabbing his hand.

She sniffled loudly, tears running down her red cheeks. "Don't! Noah, please don't leave me. What if they-they come back for more?" Sighing, he realized she was right. If they did come back, she could be even more damaged than before. He nodded at her then picked her up bridal style, trying desperately to ignore the way she squeezed her eyes shut or avoided any unnecessary contact.

He started to walk away, towards the Spanish classroom which he knew was down the right hallway. She squirmed in his arms, obviously uncomfortable since her blouse and skirt was torn to shreds by those bastards. When he got to the room, he kicked open the door, successfully getting his Spanish teacher's attention.

"Puck? Why did you just-" He stopped getting up when he saw Rachel with her hair matted with blood and her clothes barely there. "What happened?" He got up, walking over to Rachel. Puck was sure she was going to freak out but from the journey over here, she had managed to fall unconscious. Thankfully.

"I.. Me and Sam, we were walking down the halls from football practice and we heard her screaming and she was down the left wing hallway, three boys beating her and Sam ran after them and I stayed back to help her and please, Mr. S, please help me." His voice broke with desperation as he finished his long sentence. His teacher rubbed his face, tears building up. Nodding, he grabbed his keys and walked out with Puck, glancing at the deep scratches on the poor girl's arms with shock.

Sam suddenly rushed up to them as soon as they were out in the hallway, panting and a bruise forming on his cheek. "They ran away, sorry, Puck." His normally bright blue eyes had darkened and they lowered to the tiny, broken girl in his arms. His face turned serious and he looked up at the two other males in the area. "You guys do know that her life will never be the same?"

Mr. Schuester nodded and lowered his head to look at his shoes. "Boys, this is deadly serious. I think you should come with her to the hospital, to describe the situation to the police." Puck couldn't even imagine why his teacher would think he would do anything else. Sam just nodded. Then they all walked out the school, save Rachel, deadly serious expressions on. When they got to the beat-up car of their choir director, Sam opened the backseat door for Puck to put the unconscious girl in and he obeyed the silent demand, making sure she didn't bump into anything because he wasn't sure how serious her injuries are. But then again, from this angle, it looked as though her ankle was twisted. Shaking that from his mind, he clambered in after, letting Sam shut the door. The blond boy then sat in the passenger seat, beside their Glee Club coach. With a turn of his keys, they were peeling out of the parking lot and driving fast towards the hospital.

All Puck could think was that he was going to make sure with all his might that she was alright.


	2. A Beautiful Disaster

I don't really like this. Yes, I'm not sure where I'm going with this. I'd absolutely LOVE suggestions on what to do. Obstacles and people to help Rachel out and the like. So yeah, review and leave in what you think would be good.

Disclaimer: if i did own Glee, Finn wouldn't be here.

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Puck never did like hospitals, you know. they're full of people who smell of rubbing alcohol and wear all white as though it's not the most disgusting place in town, full of infections and shot wounds and the like. Lima General Hospital sucked most of all. The doctors were all male and seemed to never show up on time. The nurses were all young and snooty except for one, Puck's mom. She seemed to be the only qualified person to be treating people there. And yet, she barely made enough money to keep Puck full(which, he admits, is a hard job in itself) and his sister entertained and happy. She worked hard, she gave life her all and yet she was single, a mother of two rowdy kids, and basically working herself to death. He hated the hospital with all his might and if he could, he would never set foot in it.

But yet again, a certain Broadway-loving, immensely talented midget changed his opinion about it.

A sigh escapes his lips before he can help it and Sam glares tiredly at him. "Puck, come off it. They're doing their best." A snort almost comes out but Puck holds back, smirking. Sam has obviously never been in Lima General.

"You've never been to the hospital here, have you?" Warily, Sam shakes his head no and Puck nods as to say, 'There you go then' and shifts uncomfortably in the plastic waiting room chairs. Mr. Schuester was already gone, saying something about telling her fathers about the incident. Puck had almost snickered at his glee club coach. Like her fathers cared. But the curly-haired Spanish teacher was probably trying to reach them in, what, Rome? Ireland? England? Who the fuck knows where they are.

Well, except for their unconscious daughter.

The magazines on the wooden table in front of him and Sam are from like, 2009 and Puck is tired of reading about Kanye West and that blonde chick again and again. He sighs yet again, more frustration poured in and Sam doesn't say anything, just mumbles under his breath about the stench of hydrogen peroxide. Then, fin-fucking-ally, a doctor with gray streaks in his brown, kind of shaggy hair, walks over, eyes scanning his clipboard.

"Yes, uh, the family of Rachel Berry?" He says and looks up, taking one look at Sam and furrowing his brow. It's pretty obvious that Sam's not related to her(the kid's pale as Casper and blond as Brittany) and so Puck speaks up before the doctor can question about it.

"We're not family," Puck mumbles, not looking at the doctor. It was weirdly embarrassing to admit it. Sam turns pink.

"Oh. Then friends?"

A pause comes over them and then Sam's the one to speak up, staring at the floor in shame. "No. We're... we found her, I guess." Puck closes his eyes, sighing in defeat. They found her. _Found_ her. They should have saved her from all this. The guilt drenched knife plunges down his throat and he swallows thickly, ignoring the stinging behind his eyes. The doctor doesn't speak for a few moments and Puck opens his eyes hesitantly before seeing that the man in the white cotton outfit is gazing at him with strong sympathy.

Sam clears his throat and the middle-aged man looks quickly down at his clipboard, coughing. "Well.. She's fine. Not completely, mind you. There's her broken wrist so that's in a cast. And she's got some bruising along her collarbone and ribs which means she'd need to rest for at least a week. The cast is gonna need five weeks. But other than that, fine."

Yeah, if you exclude the rape. Puck stares at the hallway in which her door is located. Sam gazes at it too. "Oh yes, she should be waking up soon. You can see her. Just try not to upset her. Upsetting her can.. can do some drastic things." Whatever the fuck _that_ meant.

Getting up, he and Sam lock eyes and nod at each other. They both know what they're going to face. Puck knows how much he will want to cry and Sam knows how much guilt he will feel. But they have to be strong for her, for Rachel Berry, the strongest person in Ohio.

Following the doctor down the hallway, they pass by plenty of rooms, rooms with lots of family in it and rooms with no one but the victim. Something that tastes horrible crawls up his throat but then again, he thinks determinedly to himself, they're visiting her. She's not alone.

"Ah, here she is. Room 789." With a nod and a vague 'good luck', they're in the room and shutting the door quietly. Turning to the bed, Puck's stomach lurches in his throat and Sam's whispering a prayer that the other boy is _sure_ came from Quinn.

The doctor said she was fine! He fucking lied, obviously. Her face was contorted into a face that one would make when experiencing a nightmare. The skin across her eyebrow is split but threaded back together with stitches. Most of the skin on her cheekbones is purple and slightly yellow, surely going to turn uglier shades later on. And the slight bruising along her collarbone? Yeah, right. There's nothing slight about it. It was dark purple, an angry violet, creeping up a little along her neck. And her wrist is laying on her stomach, wrapped in a white cast, starting from the middle of her forearm to the middle of her palm. It is also wrapped around her thumb. Puck suddenly remembers that this is her left arm, the arm she writes with. And they were only a month away from Regionals. She was hellbent on writing a song for them to perform. But how would she do that now, with her wrist broken? She would be upset, heartbroken even, to see that some of the simplest things in life to do, she could not.

She is anything but fine and it's evident. Sam stares at her, horror reflected on his face. Puck turns away, hands itching to grab the boys responsible and stop their breathing for a few moments and make them look at her right now. He wants them to see the destruction they had caused.

Sam chokes on a sob and Puck snaps out of his thoughts, shoving the bleached-haired boy in anger. "Shut the hell up, Trout Mouth. What if she wakes up and hears you whining like a bitch?" Sam glares back, eyes shining.

"What's with the mouth jokes, man? It's not even relevant anymore. It's not even that big!" Sam practically shouts. Puck glares harder. He really doesn't have the patience for this shit. Not right now anyway.

"Okay, fine! No more mouth jokes. God, when did you become such a little bitch? After Hudson stole your girl out from under you?" Puck hisses, raising an eyebrow in satisfaction when Sam's face screws up in fury.

"He didn't steal her!" Puck snorts. "Don't you fucking snort! He didn't! I broke up with her. She was crying! She still loves me. She just.. She's only with him because.. because.." Puck at first thinks he's trailing off because he doesn't even know why Quinn and Finn are fooling around. But the other boy's eyes widen comically and Puck whips around in a hurry, watching with shock as the tiny girl in the hospital bed sits up and rubs at her eyes with one hand, obviously knowing that her other is rendered useless. She yawns and runs her fingers through her brown hair, not noticing the boys frozen in shock. Opening her eyes, she stares down at her cast, analyzing it with a horror-stricken expression. When she was done with that, she stares at the tiny cuts Puck and Sam failed to notice along her other arm. Then, as though they only just came into the room, she slowly looks at Puck and Sam.

Then she screams. She screams louder than any high note she ever sang in a song. She screams like they were the one who did this to her. She scream so brokenly that Sam starts to sob, loudly, and he runs out of the room, looking green. She's still screaming when Puck tries to walk towards her. "Rachel! Rachel, it's me, Noah!" She falters, tears falling endlessly on her bruised cheeks. She's coiled up on the bed, as far away as she can be from him. It breaks his heart more than he thought it would.

"N-Noah?" It's not Rachel. It can't be. Rachel Berry wouldn't sound so broken. Rachel Berry wouldn't be so scared of him. Rachel Berry was gone, it seems. She locks eyes with him and then he thinks that maybe, just maybe, everything will be fine. Maybe she'll move on eventually and then they'll get together and they'll live happily ever after and those three boys would go to jail for the rest of their lives. However, life just didn't like him very much.

He knows that because right after she calmed down, three male doctors came in and everything just went to shit.


	3. Middle Of The Ride

It had been a week since that fateful incident. A week packed with questions from the police(with no answers given) and poking and prodding from men in white lab coats. A week full of nurses begging her to speak, to utter 'yes' or 'no'. A week interrupted daily with biological mothers, sympathetic Spanish teachers and OCD guidance counselors. A week that was much too long for a girl named Rachel Berry.

She was reading at the time, nose buried in a book named The Cure(A/N: sorry. my Spanish teacher has recommended it to me and I just had to put it in. Fantastic book.). It seemed very good when Shelby came around with a box full of a books for her to choose from. Apparently, their new connection was not Broadway or sewing but books.

Gemm, a teenage boy living in the future, had just chosen the cure(hence the name of the book) and was being strapped down when the door beeped then swung open with a bang on the wall behind it. A nurse rushed in, a heavy white paper bag with twisted paper handles in her left hand.

"Well, Ms. Berry," Said the young blond, eyes twinkling with excitement. Rachel stared in momentary shock before closing her book, allowing the older woman to continue. "You're being checked out! Your father has come to get you." Well, this was a big shock to the mute brunette in the stark white bed. For eight days, her fathers had took their sweet old time to come home from England and now her father, most likely Leroy, just randomly arrived and was ready to pick her up?

Silence passed for a few seconds, surely full of the nurse waiting for a response. She was new, evident by her expectant expression. It was now known to every nurse and doctor dealing with the young girl that she never talked anymore. She did, however, tap imaginary piano notes onto any stable surface whenever she could. "Okay, well, uh, this bag is for your cast," At this, the young singer looked at her wrist which was blocked as a large, thick, white cast generating from about the forearm, maybe longer than that, and to the start of her palm but wrapping around her thumb, just enough to expose the top. "To put on when you're showering and such. In about three weeks, you can come back to get it taken off. Oh, and your outfit is right here." And with a pat of her hands on the pants sitting on one of the chairs, she walked out, humming a tune.

With careful delicateness, Rachel unwrapped the blanket around her to not brush across her extremely sensitive bruises. Then she stood up on slightly wobbly legs, ignoring that sick feeling in her stomach as she grabbed the outfit, minus the shoes, and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. It seemed almost impossible to undo the tight knot that held her hospital gown together. When it fell to the floor, she felt exposed, so exposed that tears brimmed her amber eyes and she felt the air hastily go out of her lungs. Visions of boys with perverse grins filled her mind and she hyperventilated to herself, trying not to scream.

Her lungs felt like they were shrinking and her throat seemed to be blocked by something invisible. No air could get through and her mouth was clenched, trying not to let out her screams. She thought she felt hands rubbing her exposed skin and the bright lit room seemed to get dimmer and dimmer by the minute. She was sure that she was going to die from the pain.

However, as quickly as the panic attack(she would find out later by searching it up) had invaded her, it left without a warning, leaving waves of air flowing freely to her pained lungs.

She took a minute or two to calm herself down and wipe away the tears before pulling on the black long-sleeved blouse and white sweatpants with elastic around the ankles. She loved her father for thinking of how she'd feel in her old clothing. With a nostalgic sigh, she pulled her hair into a ponytail, eying the ugly bruises decorating her cheeks. They were faded and could have easily passed for a bad makeup job. The cut above her head was covered with a thin white bandage to avoid blood trickling down her head. Overall, though, she looked fine. Well, from the neck up. From the neck down, she was covered with cuts and bruises and a _cast_, for God's sake.

"Baby? Are you ready?" She jumped out of her deep, trapping thoughts at the deep, low voice in the main room. She warily rolled up her sleeves, trying to avoid bumping her arm into anything. Picking up the gown, she looked around before walking out and setting it on the bed. Her father, Leroy, was big and buff, his dark brown skin standing out against his white and black striped polo shirt. His deep green eyes stared at her bruises and cast and they softened immediately as well as glistened with tears. He rushed to her and enveloped her with a hug. She felt uncomfortable at first, he never was very affectionate, but eventually she sighed into it, feeling a warm emotion she could only label as love flow from his skin to hers. She just really needed a hug.

"I'm so sorry," He mumbled into her hair, voice cracking with guilt. She tightened her arm's hold around his waist and tried to will her tears away but to no avail. They flowed from her eyes and onto her cheeks, stinging the bruises slightly. With a sigh, he rubbed her back in comfort, humming a tune. It took a few moments but eventually Rachel pulled away, wiping at her eyes with an embarrassed smile on. "I'll never leave you again, Rachel. I'll.. no one will ever hurt you again. I promise," He declared with a steely sort of tone. Rachel stared up at him before sniffling and pulling on her socks and shoes. She wanted to believe him, she really truly did.

However, she wasn't a little girl and he wasn't a bodyguard. He couldn't ensure that she wouldn't be hurt ever again and obviously, he couldn't just stay by her side forever. She wanted to believe he could but the incident had made her a realist. The Oscars, and the Tonys and the Broadway dreams? That's just it. They were dreams. She couldn't possibly think she was the best thing ever and there was probably a million other small town girls with big voices. She shook her head, banishing the depressing but dishearteningly true thoughts. He grabbed her book and bag and off they went, both mentally praying for normality to come.

It didn't.

She didn't know what she had expected but she expected to come home to silence and emptiness yet again and to frozen TV dinners and just something other than the warmness that enveloped her as soon as she stepped in. Hiram, her second father, smothered her with kisses and though she flinched visibly in terror, he continued to hug her and murmur promises that did nothing to shake her realist beliefs. The loving feeling was slowly fleeting. It was fading in her chest, leaving the hopelessness and depression she was now used to.

She nodded towards the stairs and although her fathers were notified of her lack of speech, they stared at her mouth with a look of pure disappointment. Guilt was swimming in her stomach and she turned away, walking up the stairs and stopping in front of her door. It made her sick, the brightness that seemed be the mood of her bedroom. She gulped and then, with no thinking at all, she tore it all off, not caring that her wrist was throbbing with pain from being tried so hard so early into its process of healing.

All of it was on the floor now. The smiley faces, the large plastic gold star hanging, the stickers surrounding it, everything. She wasn't a star, she wasn't amazing. She wasn't anything anymore. She was a girl who was foolish enough to think that life was easy and that same life came and bite her in the ass. She had to live with this now. She clenched her jaw and stared at the destroyed decoration on her wooden floor in the empty hallway, ignoring the hot tears racing down her bruised cheeks. She rushed into the room and sat down on the bed, drawing her knees to her chest. She pushed her palms into her eyes, trying to block out the world. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip so hard that she could taste the metallic liquid.

She stayed like that for a while, rocking back and forth, mind blissfully blank and breathing steady and calming. Then her phone buzzed and she jumped, her position forgotten. She stared in horror at the bedazzled Blackberry before sighing and picking it up.

There were 10 missed calls, 3 voice messages, and 14 texts. She went through the texts first, scrolling past with a frown.

_'Berry, where r u? NATIONALS SETLIST MEETING, MEMBER?'_ from Santana.

_'i thought we had a starbuckz run? nvm then. thx.'_ from Kurt.

_'r u rlly dis upset ovr what i said? sorry for speakin da truth.'_ from Quinn.

_'we need u at glee. don't be a drama queen, diva.'_ from Mercedes.

That was all from the day after the incident. The rest were scattered throughout the week.

_'dont worry, its not my job to tell any1.'_ from Noah. Her chest tightened.

_'did u like die, or somethin? come back pls.'_ from Finn.

_'Ms. Pillz told the club. They no what hpned.'_ from Sam. Her eyes grew wide and the brunette pursed her lips to keep from crying.

_'oh god. i'm so so so so so sorry.'_ from Santana. She stared at the message, shocked.

_'i'm heree forr youu, Rachh.'_ from Tina.

_'if you want, i can beat up every guy in Lima until i get to those boys! (:'_ from Mike.

_'r u ever coming back? i need to apologize, rach.'_ from Quinn.

_'If you need anything, I'm sure my cat will help you out. Sorry Broadway.'_ From Brittany. Or she could assume it was Brittany. She didn't think that was her type of texting but then again, the adorably naive blond always amazed her.

_'we need to talk if ur gonna be ignoring me. thought we were friends? w/e then.'_ from Kurt.

'shelby told me. can we talk?' from, surprisingly, an unknown number in Los Angeles. Somehow, she had a feeling it was Jesse.

Sighing, she deleted them all with no hesitation. She didn't want to think about how upset they were. She deleted all the missed calls and then dialed her voicemail, putting it on speaker. "Please enter your passcode and then press pound," The monotonous woman spoke and Rachel obliged before listening closer. "Monday, March 28th, 2011, at 3:50 PM from the number -." Then it beeped and a whimper immediately echoed through the phone.

_"Oh my god, Rachel!"_ She could hear Quinn weeping and Tina's fearful tone made her close her eyes to calm down. _"I'm-I'm so sorry. I thought you were just being a drama queen... oh god. you were r-r-"_ Tina didn't finish and started sobbing. The sound jostled as though the phone was being handled over.

_"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I always bullied you and I was just jealous. You were so strong and determined and you weren't side-tracked by anything and now you got hurt and I swear to god, if they find those boys I will fucking tear out their throats and shoot their di-"_

_"Santana!"_ Mr. Schuester shouted, apparently having had attempted to calm down the Latina. Rachel almost smiled.

_"Whatever! I-I can't-"_ Santana's words became garbled and no one was able to calm her down, it seemed. Someone else took the phone and she could hear the crying more louder than normal. She flinched at the raise in volume.

_"I'm such a jerk!"_ Finn shouted and Rachel found herself nodding along. _"I didn't forgive you for making one little mistake and you might have died and god, if you did and I never got to accept your apology, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I hope you're doing okay."_ Another person snatched the phone and they walked away because the noises of crying and comforting words faded slightly.

_"I didn't tell them. I swear. God, I just... I wish I could save you from all this. I know you're hurting and I know that those boys, they broke you but I promise, I fucking promise, me and Sam will put you back together. You don't deserve this."_ She immediately turned off her phone after the message ended with a beep. She took out the battery and set it in her sock drawer. Then she did what she had been wanting to do since she woke up. She pulled off her shoes and socks and crawled under her blanket, wiping away falling tears. She fell asleep, dreaming of tear-filled eyes and about fourteen arms reaching out to hug someone just one inch away. They couldn't get her, even if they stepped closer.

She was just too faraway for anyone to reach.


	4. It Consumes You

**Ooh. You guys probably hate me. Sorry. My fault. Serious Writer's Block, guys. So I've been thinking about the storyline and I think that the day Quinn told Rachel she didn't belong was the day after Regionals, am I wrong? So let's pretend that Regionals was after school. Rachel missed Regionals and because they were all sure they'd win, they had a Nationals Setlist Meeting the day after. I suppose that makes sense. So okay, I'm good now. Review please. I love reviews. (:**

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"So how are you today, Rachel?" How was she? She was annoyed, she was sick and tired, she was sick and tired of being sick and tired-

_She was screaming in pain and they all just laughed at her attempts to shout through the tape, their alcohol-stained breaths invading her nose and mouth, she tried, really, to crawl away but-_

She shrugged, nails picking at the leather chair and eyes on the bookshelf behind the professional looking woman sitting in front of her. It was filled with books, thousands of them it seemed. She remembered a book she once read called It's Kind Of A Funny Story, that was maybe a movie, she wasn't sure, and the boy had said all the good 'shrinks' had a book of diseases. Her eyes scanned the titles but she quickly realized that the woman was talking. She could look at it at another time.

"-your fathers told me something, Rachel." Rachel kind of liked her. She had this kind of trusting, sweet-faced look to her. Her hair was down though and a lovely shade of blond. The kind of blond that you could argue was either a really light red or a dirty blond. Her eyes are narrow and cat-like in a way and a normal shade of brown. She wasn't skinny like most women her age(about 22) but she wasn't overweight either. She was a very nice weight of what Rachel guessed to be about 135. The woman, her name was Miss Savory-Felton, always smiled at her. Not a smile that says, 'Hey, come talk to me because your fathers are paying 160 bucks an hour' but a smile that makes you open up. Or maybe they were the same.

Rachel nodded, looking at her with an arched eyebrow, something she picked up from Noah. Ms. Savory-Felton cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable with her not speaking. Nodding, she stared at her notepad. "You like to sing, don't you?"

Used to.

Rachel nodded, not bothering to correct her. "Oh, that's lovely. I like to sing as well. I'm in my church choir, you know. Are you? In a choir, I mean." Rachel nodded again and Ms. Savory-Felton wrote something down.

"I heard what happened, you know."

Well, obviously.

Rachel didn't react.

"Do you blame yourself?"

_"Hey, doll, I'm lost, can you help me?" She stared at the three guys in a flaming red car, leering at her. Glee Club was almost starting and she should really be getting back into the school and out of the parking lot. "Come on, darling, just for a minute. I need to get to a phone."_

_"I have a phone," She answered, looking quite nervous. She had this feeling that they didn't need a phone but she ignored it, pulling out her Blackberry and checking her messages, seeing one from Santana but she didn't look at it. They grinned at each other and all got out of the car, stepping towards her in a clumsy way. It now apparent they were drunk._

_"Why are you backing up, baby? I just want to use your phone," He stated, slurring his words and smirking in a creepy way, not like Noah. Oh, she wished Noah was here. She backed up again, putting her phone away and looking around for anyone. She had stupidly forgotten her rape whistle. Damn._

_One's hand grabbed her wrist and she panicked, shaking him off and whimpering in fear. "Help!"_

_ His face easily turned menacing. "You shouldn't have done that."  
_

_She turned around, quickly walking to her school, opening the doors and sprinting in, panting. Her mistake, she ran in the one farthest from anyone in the school. She could hear their angry calls and she turned a corner, seeing the end of the hallway was the doors to the boys gym locker room. Noah was probably getting out now, planning on skipping Glee to shower, he told her earlier. _

_Before she could get closer, a hand snapped closed around her waist and another over her mouth, silencing her scream. Silencing her completely. _

She didn't answer, mind in a painful memory. "Rachel. Do you blame yourself?"

A nod escaped her and her therapist stared at her with an unreadable expression before writing something down on her notepad. "I've read your medical report, Rachel." She flinched. "They really hurt you."

_He tore at her shirt and she squirmed under his weight on her waist, tears streaming down her face and onto the waterproof duct trap on her mouth. She felt the cool air nip at her chest and he grinned at her then began to tear her shirt more, the fabric's rips cutting through the air. _

_\Her arm escaped his friend's grasp and she punched him in the face, her fist burning with the contact of his hard nose. Their laughs silenced, her shirt stopped ripping and she stared in horror as the man's hand touched his bloody nose and his flaming eyes looked at her. "You bitch."_

_Before she could even blink, he stood up and stomped on her chest, making it erupt in pain. She cried out but the duct tape muffled it. He kicked her chest and stomach and face and from the red filter-like vision she was seeing through, she knew he cut into her. He stopped after a while, panting and kneeling down. "Ain't so tough now, are you, slut?" Then he proceeded to pull her now bloody skirt down and she kicked and screamed loud through her tape, praying that someone save her. _

_No one did._

Her tears raced down her still bruised cheeks and she nodded, looking out the window. Silence overtook them for a few minutes before Ms. Savory-Felton spoke softly. "Rachel, this isn't going to consume you. I won't let that happen. Your dads won't. Mr. Puckerman and Mr. Evans surely won't. You shouldn't." Then a buzzer went off and the older woman sighed. "That's all for now, I'll see you next Tuesday."

Rachel stood up, shook hands with the blonde and then proceeded to step out into the waiting room, waiting for her father to get ready. She glanced at the other people in curiosity. She wondered if one of them doesn't speak either. Stepping outside of the building and getting into the backseat of her father's car, she noticed the pink bookbag on the floor of the vehicle. Her eyes narrowed. He got in minutes later and she glared at him. He sighed, his gaze lowering to his shoes. "You need to go back to school, Rachel." She didn't want to though. Why did no one ask her what she wanted?

A small part of her answered in a voice eerily sassy like Santana, "Because you don't even speak. What, do you want a pen and a piece of paper and everyone to wait on you hand and foot? Life isn't fair. You should know that by now."

"If it gets to be too much, you can go to the office and call me to pick you up." She stared at him, unsure. "Please... for me." Leaning back into her seat and buckling up, he took that as a yes and drove off toward her high school.

Her breath hitched and she wanted to to go into another panic attack, anything to stop from going back there. Anything to stop from reliving those memories. Anything to stop from seeing people who cared about her. She didn't want anyone to care.

Knowing that she had support just made her fall even more. She couldn't help but hate herself a little because for some reason, for some weird reason, their caring wasn't enough. She was still alone and she was still falling into this depression.

Her father parked right outside of the school and she stared out at the window at the empty parking lot but full building.

He turned halfway, looking at her through the rear view mirror. "It's okay, Rachel. We care." She nodded and got out out of the car with a note in her hand, shutting the door with her other, the other with the broken arm attached. She walked inside the school, mind racing with one question only.

So why did she feel so alone?


End file.
